by Sierra Hill
Chapter Twelve
Theo
I still can’t find my mojo
For whatever reason, Joey seems reluctant to take my compliments about her sexiness.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve lost my touch and I just suck at it because I’ve been traumatized by my ex. I’ll have to work on upping my game.
After we’d finished dinner, we sat on the couch and opened our scripts, turning it to the beginning of the third act. This is where the tension levels between Silvia and Chester have been brewing and it finally comes to a head and they end up kissing.
Which is exactly what I want to practice with Joey.
I’ve wanted to taste those lips for a week, but I’m so out of practice that I keep wimping out. But tonight’s plan is to ensure it comes to fruition. Even if I have to do it in an underhanded deceitful fashion.
Even if I won’t be acting when we finally hit that scene.
“Do you think you’re giving me special treatment?” Joey asks as she skims through the lines on the pages before looking up and giving me a look of concern.
“How so?”
She shifts her position. “Well, duh. I’m getting to practice my lines with the director and guy who wrote the play. If that isn’t a leg up on the competition, I don’t know what is.”
I nod and wink. “I see your point. I guess you’ll have to knock me dead with your amazing natural talent so no one questions my decisions.”
Joey huffs out a breath. “Great, I’m going to be viewed as teacher’s pet. No one likes those people.”
She scrunches her nose and I want to lean over and kiss every cute freckle sprinkled there. But I hold back.
Again.
“It’s a good thing than that Birdie is also helping with the casting, so it won’t be biased.”
“That’s even worse. I think that woman has it out for me.”
I laugh, but it might be true. I’ve seen with my own two eyes the dirty looks Birdie gives to Joey. I’m guessing it might be out of jealousy.
Birdie has on occasion tried enticing me back to her place to “go over the play”. I’ve always politely turned her down because I know it’s just code for wanting to fuck. But she does nothing for me. I’m not interested in her in the slightest, especially not when my attention is on Joey.
“Don’t be silly,” I wave her off and grab my wine glass, taking a big swig of it. Letting the warmth filter through my system. Filling me up with the liquid courage.
Joey’s gaze assesses me, as if she’s trying to figure me out. She tips her head from one shoulder to the other, pursing her lips in thought. And then as if she’s come to some kind of resolution, she heaves a sigh.
“Whatever. She gives me the stink eye whenever you ask me to read. She seems kind of territorial and possessive.”
Shrugging off her intuition, I redirect the conversation to the play.
“Well, she’s barking up the wrong tree.”
“Exactly,” she says, lifting and pointing her index finger at me.
I raise my brows at the emphatic tone she uses.
“I guess we’ll just have to show Birdie how spectacular you are, then. Let’s start on Act Three Scene Two, where Chester is out in the yard. Ready?”
She gives me the thumbs up and finds the scene I’m referring to. I get a thrill knowing what’s coming up.
And I was completely serious about her abilities. She is a natural, just like I knew she would be. Her style is easy, she’s great at reading and expressing emotion and takes direction without hesitation. Unlike some of the other students in my class.
Proctor, especially. That man thinks he knows everything under God’s green earth and is exactly the type of actor who will crash and burn on stage because he’s too confident. Once these types get on stage, they develop stage fright and everything they think they know flies out the window and fear takes over, leaving them paralyzed and ready to vomit. Either that, or they become self-absorbed assholes that nobody wants to work with.
In the acting profession, they are what’s known as a diva.
We have seven principle cast members to cast for this play and right now, I only have three in mind for the leads. Myself as Chester, Joey as Silvia and Marlon as Henry, the old man. Which I think is a hilarious casting choice, because Marlon looks like a kid and it’s ironic.
I’m confident that we’ll fill the needed roles for the play from those who are interested in acting in the live performance. And for those we don’t, they’ll work behind the scenes with our set designers and techs, sound designer and costume/wardrobe designers. Thankfully, Niles provided us with a decent budget to cover all the additional expenses.
And once we select the actors and get started on rehearsals, it’ll be a short four weeks in preparation before opening night. Which is always the most nerve-wracking but exhilarating time for an actor and director/playwright.
One could say it’s nearly as exciting as losing your virginity.
Almost.
Or the anticipation of the first kiss with a woman.
Joey clears her throat after silently reading through the scene and I know when she finally comes to the point in the play where she sees it. Then her eyes find mine and she blinks.
“Are we…um, so this scene…are we doing everything?”
I bite back the laughter that’s bubbling up, but I tamp it back down in my throat.
“Uh-huh. That’s the plan.”
The heat of embarrassment floods her face in a bright array of pink.
“I’ve never…”
I interrupt her, hoping to put her at ease. “I know. It’s okay. I’ll walk you through it. Are you uncomfortable with the idea of kissing me?”
I don’t realize I’m holding in my breath until she responds and it feels like a burst of air is expelled from my chest in a whoosh.
“Of course not,” she counters, sitting up straighter as I toss her a smile. “If you’re okay with it, then I am, too.”
“Okay then. Let’s do it. You go first.”
Joey collects herself and I see she draws herself into the character as her face goes blank for a moment, her chest lifting visibly as she sucks in some air and then lets it go.
“Chester, you know you’re overwatering those roses, right?”
“Must you always be such a know-it-all, Silvia? You’re always in my business.”
“Well I wouldn’t need to be in your business if your rose bushes weren’t on my property line.”
“Maybe you should worry about your own bush, Miss Know-it-all.”
Pause for laughter.
“What would you like me to do, your majesty? Pull them all out and replant them elsewhere?”
Joey’s voice grows louder, clearly emphasizing her character’s irritation over her neighbor’s surly attitude.
I shift closer to her on the couch, leaving little room between us, readying myself for the kiss. Hoping to leave her breathless and wanting more. Script or no script.
“Oh, you’re such a monster! Such an irksome beast.”
And now we’re at the point in the scene where it describes the character Chester throwing down the watering can, grabbing Silvia by the shoulders, and crushing his mouth to hers.
Joey breaks character and giggles. But I don’t let it deter me or throw me out of character. I do exactly as the script outlines.
My mouth is so hungry for her lips, I devour her. I swallow her gasp as I conform my lips with hers, my tongue sweeping in and seeking hers. My kiss is wet, hot and in need of confirmation. Knowledge that she wants this as much as I do. That she feels the same pull of attraction and is itching for something to happen.
I tug her to me, so that our chests touch. The sound of her script fluttering to the floor is barely noticed as the noise of my heartbeat floods my own ears. Nothing else matters in this moment except ensuring Joey is properly kissed.
She’s stiff for only a moment and then I feel her body relax and unwind under my grasp. I
hold on tight, for fear she’ll move away and break the connection. One hand slowly migrates up her arm, to the curve of her neck where I find goosebumps. And then I palm the back of her head, my fingers sifting through her soft curls.
I groan. She sighs.
Joey tastes of summertime. Cool breeziness with a hint of warmth from the wine lingering on her breath, and it gets me hard.
I mean, hard, hard.
Hard enough that I’ll probably embarrass myself if this goes on much longer.
Hoping to avoid any unnecessary mess, and with the force of effort that feels like I’ve summoned a Hercules-like strength, I pull myself back and stare at Joey’s gorgeous face.
Her lips are dewy and rosy, a little swollen and wet, and it sends my heart into my throat knowing I did that to her. The wispy, long lashes of her eyes fan out as her cheeks bloom with heat.
And as I gaze down at her chest, I see the same shade of pink across the tops of her breasts, which are displayed spectacularly in the V-neck t-shirt she wears.
When her eyes pop open, I see a mixture of heat, surprise and bewilderment in her emerald irises.
“Wow,” she blurts, her voice a little raspy. “You’re really good at that.”
Her fingers touch her lips, smoothing over the canvas that I just laid my mouth on.
I’m not sure how to respond to that. She says it like she’s surprised I’m a good kisser.
“Thanks. So are you. How do you feel?”
Her eyes dart away from mine like she’s guilty of something, but I don’t know why.
“I mean, it being your first “actors kiss,” and all, I’m curious if it’s any different from how you’d normally feel.”
I’m putting her on the spot and digging to see if she feels any of the same connection that I do. But instead of answering, she jumps up off the couch like it’s on fire, scaring Woody who is snoozing at her feet.
He lifts his head and his ears pop up before he gets up to walk off toward the kitchen, where he plops himself down again on the floor, groaning from the interruption.
Joey stands at the counter, fidgeting with her t-shirt, obviously anxious over this situation I’ve put her in.
Shit, I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable.
“So, uh, I hate to end our session early, but I should probably hit the sack and get some rest if I’m going to be prepared for tomorrow’s auditions.”
I look at the clock on her microwave and it’s nine-forty p.m. She’s trying to get rid of me.
So much for making my move. I just crashed-and-burned even pretending to kiss her. I can’t imagine what it would be like if it was the real thing and not hidden under the guise of acting.
Picking up her discarded script off the floor, I hand it over to her. She takes it and holds it tight to her chest in a protective manner. I stand and shift on my feet.
“Yeah, sure. No problem. I’ll take Woody out for a walk and then see you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Yep, uh-huh. Okay. That sounds good.”
Joey ushers us out the door before I can even say goodnight.
Well, Christ on a cracker.
I really have lost my mojo.
Chapter Thirteen
Joey
Are donuts aphrodisiacs?
Omigod, omigod, omigod.
My head is spinning as I make laps around my kitchen island. I’m getting dizzy and feel faint. My heart rate has spiked to an alarming level and I’ll probably be forced to call 911 when I have a heart attack.
All because of Theo’s kiss.
Now I know for certain that I’m insane. Or just very, very lonely.
How can a gay man’s kiss excite me so immensely that I had to change my panties the moment he left my apartment?
I mean, what the actual hell is that all about?
My body was ready to go bow-chica-bow-wow all over Theo.
It was honest-to-God the most perfect kiss I’d ever experienced. My stomach did acrobatics and somersaults when the gentle pressure of his lips turned firm, his tongue coasting over mine so that I imagined his cock doing the very same thing down between my legs.
I’ve never been jealous of Patrick because the guys he would choose to have flings were a little too…well, gay for me. Perfect for him, but I want a man who is ripped, but not a muscle-maniac or pencil thin.
I like a guy who cares about his appearance but doesn’t use more products than myself. A man who is okay with showing his emotions, but isn’t moodier than I am.
And that’s what I’ve found with Theo. He’s my perfect man, except that I’m not his ideal partner.
I don’t have the equipment he prefers.
Dammit. The one and only time I’ve ever wished for a set of balls instead of a pair of boobs.
Hoping that a cool shower will calm me down, I strip off all my clothes and jump in. My skin feels too tight and itchy. Tingly everywhere.
The cool water rains over me, trickling down my back, over my breasts and down the valley between my legs. It feels teasingly good and I begin to replay the images of Theo and I on the couch.
When he leaned over and took charge of that kiss, I was startled, a little nervous but completely turned on. I wanted him to kiss me so bad! His long, tapered fingers slid up my exposed skin of my arm until they grasped behind my head to clasp me tightly. Like he wanted to keep me put from moving away.
As if I would escape. Fat chance.
I was so lost in the kiss that I forgot for just one moment that it was all an act. It was just part of the acting process and it didn’t mean anything to Theo. Even though it meant everything to me.
Water droplets drip from my closed eyelashes and land on the top of my nose. I whisk it away with a flick of my finger.
I don’t know how I’ve turned into this wistful woman who pines for a man she can’t have. A guy who has no interest in me other than as an acting partner and friend. And nothing I can do or say will change that between us. So why do I hold out hope?
I need to open myself up to dating other people. It’s been a while since I’ve been out there and I need to forget about this stupid unrequited crush I have on Theo and get back out on the horse – even though I’ve technically never been on said horse.
But I need to do something to unhinge this attraction I have for him and move on. So, I’ve decided that tomorrow after class, after the auditions for the play parts, I will take Marlon up on his offer to go out to dinner.
He’s young and I know he just wants to have some fun, but at least it’ll be with someone who most likely wants to get into my pants and maybe even get down and dirty with me.
Unlike Theo, who thinks it would be gross to get down with me.
Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and feel good about my decision.
This will be the summer when I’m no longer the girl with no direction in life. No interests or passion. No man.
I’ve concluded I’m going to live this summer like there’s no tomorrow. I’m going to make my mark in this world and I’m going to get that part in the workshop play.
I’m going to lose myself in the character of Silvia – with all her strength and brass - and find myself in the process.
Even if it means giving up on the fantasy that Theo will someday miraculously turn hetero and fall in love with me.
****
I’m groggy and in a snippy mood when I walk into the stage room with a Dunkin Donuts coffee in hand and bag of donuts in the other.
Theo had texted me earlier this morning to ask if I wanted to take the L with him to class and I politely declined. I needed some breathing room to myself so I could think through this plan of mine.
And forget about that kiss.
The coffee is strong and hot – just like Theo – who is chatting amiably with another classmate as I walk into the room and take a seat. He glances my way and gives me the chin gesture in greeting. And flashes me one of his oh-so-gorgeous smiles.
His eyes take a stroll from my f
ace down to the bag of donuts and he widens his eyes, quirking an eyebrow at me. I shrug impishly.
Yeah, so I may have bought him a donut, too. My plan isn’t foolproof. He’s still my friend and I like him a lot.
Theo ends his conversation and begins walking toward me, just as I take a huge bite of my double-chocolate coconut donut. I lick my lips in satisfaction and may moan a little bit. I notice Theo’s steps falter.
When he stops in front of me, he has a weird expression on his face.
“Good morning,” he greets as I swallow down the delicious bite.
Smiling, I mumble with my mouth full. “Mmm.”
I notice his hands twitch at his side. “Uh, you have...some,” he mutters, his thumb coming up to graze over my lower lip. My mouth parts slightly and my tongue darts out to lick away the chocolate.
And then I sit there in complete bewilderment as Theo’s thumb retreats up to his own mouth, flicking it clean with his tongue.
Oh geez. There go all plans to forget about that kiss.
My face feels like it’s on fire. I swallow harshly and practically choke. The coffee is not going to douse these flames wicking and building like an inferno in my chest, but I take a sip anyway for something to do. Anything to get my thoughts on something besides how hot that just was.
So hot I have to look down to make sure it didn’t burn a hole through my clothes. Am I even still wearing clothes? I have no idea because I feel naked under his intense gaze.
“I sure hope you’ve got something for me.”
Uh, I’ve got something for you…
Okay, let’s face it. My mind and thoughts are so far from donuts and breakfast right now, I could be on planet Venus. All I’m thinking about is being naked. With Theo.
He nods his head to the bag in my lap.
“A donut?”
“Of course.”
I fumble with the bag, finally just shoving it out to him, my hands trembling. He grasps the edge, but not before lightly brushing my knuckles with his fingers.
His reflexes are good because he snatches the bag as I’ve basically just dropped like it’s hot.
